User blog comment:Bartholomew Billberry Bowstring/Mossflower Country & Beyond/@comment-3135907-20110806165405/@comment-3135907-20110808201831

Redfang gives a smirk and points to the relief force. The stoat gives a look of pure shock and the ferret gallops away over an old bridge resembling a raft that straddles the stream with the rats close behind. The stoat finally turns to go but is felled by a spear and two arrows. The ferret and rats, now safely on the other side, cut lose the bridge and hop on, now using as a raft. They pole off down the stream and go around a sandy bend out of sight. Redfang points to the crossing. "Cummon, buckoes, let's get across an' continue scoutin'." One of the rats in the patrol begins crossing the ten or so feet across but pulls his footpaw out and leaps back onto the stream bank. "There's quickmud unner that water!" he screams and shoves a claw under, then pulls it out covered in thick, squelchy quicksand. "We'd purrish!" moans one of the patrol, a excessively fat weasel. "Aye," Redfang says, "and you'll die 'ere too. At me swordpoint! Now git goin' across that stream, it can't pull yer all in at once, now can it? It only 'as room fer a few!" The rat who first started crossing begins again, followed by the fat weasel, who takes some prodding on Redfang's part. Finally a ferret named Rigbind starts ushering more beasts across. But Redfang's idea naturally proves itself wrong almost instantly. It begins with the rat in the lead. Grumbling about the squelchy quicksand and how Redfang ought to try it himself, he doggedly continues his efforts, when with a start he realizes the sand under his paws has not just begun pulling, but has been doing so, and the water has deceived his footpaws with its currents so that he hasn't noticed that he is already up to his waist in the quagmire underneath the two feet of water. With a moan his head goes under the water, and the mud goes to his chest, pulling, pulling... The fat weasel gives an unearthly scream when he sees the rat's head go under. Desperately he tries to flounder his way back to Redfang's side of the stream, but it is too late, and with a burble his head disappears as well. The others in the water begin thrashing, sobbing, screaming and moaning. Another rat goes under, then a stoat. On the other bank that has been their goal, the ferret and rats appear again, chuckling and leaning back on sandy boulders, tossing pebbles at their doomed foes. Finally Rigbind has begun crossing, and has swam over the sand, keeping his footpaws kicking in the water. He makes it to the middle of the stream, where he discovers that there is no sand but rock. With a laugh he wades toward shore. He turns back to the others. "Cummon, just swim over the sand, don't wade through the first part. Swim to me, then we kin wade. It jus' takes a bit o'-" His eyes roll back in his skull and his head lolls to one side as an arrow pierces his unprotected back. He sinks facefirst into the water.